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so often it's
the beautiful the cherished
which falls
from dusty table
For the sun to shine,
there must be darkness.
But for darkness to exist,
there must be light. -TheJudas
An internal battle turn into poetry
Morrie W S Apr 30
keep me in the
pocket of your jacket

love me in the
corner of your heart

dream of me in mantis shrimp
think of me when doth
shatter thine heart.

if i could be
what i would need
myself I lose;
myself I dream
Sally A Bayan Apr 18 sit down and reflect
on how we lived our life the past
years, months, weeks, days, hours...
it's not the only time to recall
the wrong decisions we made,  
the people who got affected, and
how we recompense(d) them...

Lent is not the only time to be kind,
to be giving to others...we go deeper
than thinking good...being good, and
doing must shine in
our actions and words, naturally,
it must radiate from within us
all the seasons in our lifetime...

older folks always told us children then:
"be patient...find time to read, try to
understand the Passion of the One
crowned with could lessen
the stubbornness in you...or, change
some of your stubborn views..."

until now, i ask myself: if i had been there,
would i have stopped?
would i have helped Him in His sufferance?
this leads me to my own daily crosses...
the lightest, the easiest problems worry me,
without analysis...i quickly pray for solutions...
...i whine......even in silence, i complain...

most people have flown out of the country,
some are on their way to blue beaches
to play games on the sandy shores...
some stay home, watch movies on netflix...
me?..i am alone...but not really alone,
pondering by the garden....with two white
puppies nibbling on my toes and slippers,
naughty, exploring nonstop...ruining my oxygen
and money plants...messing the veranda floor,
i almost rang their former owner.....but,
their enquiring eyes did melt my heart...

these puppies, somehow, brought light
to my blurry mind....taught me to just
accept what is in front of me,
without asking questions....
i do believe...reflections
come off and on...anytime,
...lent is not the only time....
((Maundy Thursday reflections))



© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
April 18, 2019
esridersi Mar 25
Who I feel in me, who says hello, and loves me, finally wipes the crust out his eyes to see his face.
No longer empty, now abundant, I am the well of peace overrun | I am like a peace-filled lantern shone high as the sun.
As of now, I am the one who seeks discipline and rain in a formless sky - longing to wash away the thoughts that dampen my light.
I am strength where force is needed | I am like a faded hug where love was wanted.
nsp Apr 16
another life lesson came to me today through the bonding of loneliness and public transportation -
a filthy bus stop if there ever was one:
trash, human hair, the smell of ****.
I was standing there in the depths of my loneliness,
despising everyone that passed by,
when I hear the clicking of boots.
they're supporting firm legs and a sharp jacket
opened just enough to see a soft white shirt
falling delicately off *******.
her head is turned away,
hair flowing and dark,
and I think to myself
'I wish I could get a woman like that,
I wish she would give me the time of day, I wish I had a chance.'
she had turned by now:
hazel eyes, cutting eyebrows,
defined lips, strong jaw.
and as she steps onto her bus she waves to me,
because we once spent a week together in a hotel in Prague.
and our bodies' desire destroyed that room.
we broke: dishes, shelves, a chair, the bed frame.
they nearly tossed us out.
and the kicker is -
our first night together,
I jokingly told her I was an escort,
and she pulled out her wallet,
and paid me.
so here I was thinking
'this woman is so stunning she's out of my league.'
when in reality,
not only did we tear each other to pieces -
she paid me for it.
nsp Apr 11
not my finest moment, but one worth examining -
I had a mullet and lived off of Haight st.
she didn't mind my mullet which,
at that time, was about all I could ask for.
we made out in the rain, copulated in bar bathrooms, lay in bed for hours laughing.
she was an explosion of life - a sunflower in the wind.
and beautiful.
(because how many ordinary princesses get poems?)
I thought I was prince charming.
turns out I was the stepmother,
the witch, the wolf.
I turned our bedroom -
where we love, lusted, and lived
- into a dungeon.
because it was the only place I wanted her.
to myself, pleasing me, craving me.
I did everything I could to keep her in that dungeon.
and her eyes glossed over, and she started to die.
I watched her starve.
then one day I unlocked the giant iron door,
swung it back,
and she was gone.
maybe rescued by a prince,
most likely grew wings and flew out on her own.
because I was the villain in my own fairy tale,
hers too.
and this one had a happy ending,
which means,
I lost.
I'll never be the wolf again.
Marla Apr 10
The last time I wrote about the Ether,
It was more out of intrigue than understanding.
Now I know that the Ether isn't a place,
It isn't a void,
It isn't the universe itself,
And it isn't our perception of a collective unconscious.

No, The Ether is a machine.
An elevator to be exact.
One that goes up and down,
Side to side,
And even through & through.
The Ether is the universe's
Very own mail system.

But the universe is everything.
We are in the universe,
So therefore we are a part of it
Which makes us, well,

Now what this means is that
When we send someone our thoughts,
Give them our prayers,
Share with them our love,
And make the world a better place,
We're doing it as much for others as we are ourselves.

Love yourself as you would thy neighbor
Because you're as much your neighbor as you are
Your neighbor's neighbor.
You are everyone and everything
Condensed into a form that is utterly unique,
Yet more ubiquitous than life outside of earth.

You are your own god as much as you are god's subject.
So be a good One
Or else the bad ones will come and get you.
Sun falls, reflecting a blinding light
Across rivers ripple
Where flashes of dying blue
Allude the impending gloom.

Above, the sky a benign passage
Of fading warmth
Sits cloudless and still,
Forming a backdrop to
Silhouettes of brutal

A scene, harmonious in juncture
Between days end
And the fleeing hoards.

© Richard Duffy. All rights reserved
Reflections from an autumnal evenings commute, leaving the city by push bike as the light faded.
Chips, chips! Marbles!
Chips off the block
From marble to rubies
To granite and pearls

All  off the block
Tower highly high
In mighty Eiffel's image

Chips, pointing hands
Laugh spitefully
at the block
"We are masters"
They say

"If that were so"
Says I, mighty leopard
Then would my spots
So change to blue

"Alas"! says father tortoise
If it were true
Then my legs would
Carry me
In Hermes' sandals

Yet, they see not
That they are but
Shadows cast from
Ancient, blunt, mirrors.
History repeats itself
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